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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517978">into that good night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampire Hunter D (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Challenge Response, Character Study, F/M, Fluff and Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:32:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>So let's make a proper go of it, this time.</i>
</p>
<p>( Archiving entries for Doris Lang/D, written for the OTP_100 community on Insanejournal written ~2010/2011 )</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>D/Doris Lang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 071. Time (The Sun Sets)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>She was waiting for him when he left.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was sitting on a cyborg horse, waiting for him outside the gates. The setting sun spread like rose across the sky, tinted with rich gold, darkening as the light slipped away. Night wasn't falling sharply the way it often seemed to on the Frontier, the light fleeing the sight of what happened under the cover of night. Instead, it stained her golden skin with rich light and gleamed off of the well-kept metal of her weaponry.</p>
<p>She waited until he was close enough to be in human earshot before she said, "you weren't gonna drop by." There was a shadow of hurt in her voice, but no surprise, and they studied each other for a moment.</p>
<p>Another long moment stretched, and then his voice emerged, low, from beneath the brim of his hat. "You look well."</p>
<p>"You don't," she said bluntly. "Is it the sun?"</p>
<p>After a moment an answer slipped out that would have shocked almost anyone else who'd ever met him. "Even dhampirs need their rest."</p>
<p>"You less than the rest," she said wryly, a hint of humour slipping across her face. "You must have been riding for a long time. Rest at the ranch."</p>
<p>His horse shifted, stamping one foot. The black coat soaked in the light that washed, even in fading glory, over the long grass and the beaten dirt of the road, tracked by uncountable feet and wheels. The wind carried little sound, only the soft hum of insects and the long, peaceful sigh of the wind. And, of course, the steady beat of her heart</p>
<p>"I don't want to impose," he said finally.</p>
<p>Doris blew out a dismissive breath. "You won't be," she said. "And don't give me any of that 'it's be better if' crap, because I'm not interested in listenin'."</p>
<p>D gathered up his reins in one hand and Doris nudged her horse forward, coming down alongside him. Her hand was light, gentle, but consummately skillful, and the horse stopped with her thigh a hairsbreadth from his.</p>
<p>"D," she said quietly. The word hung in the air between them, and each soft breath was filled with a thousand unsaid words, a history unexplored and a future better left untapped for its bittersweet fantasy. Already she was matured, a woman grown now rather than a girl, and she met his stare unflinching. "Dan would like to see you," she said. "It'll thrill him. If not for me, come for him." She spoke softly, persuasively, but not pleadingly. "Just think of it as one last visit to old friends before you're off beyond our reach, and maybe centuries'll pass before you're back this way again."</p>
<p>His pause was almost tense. "It's not because -- "</p>
<p>"I know," Doris said, and shrugged one shoulder. "After everything you did for me, you think I don't know that it's not because you don't care? You're not that cold, D." She smiled, and it was sweet, beautiful, fierce -- every inch of the girl who'd stopped him in his tracks that crucial second the first time they'd met. "Just come say hello."</p>
<p>Whatever movement he made was indiscernible to the human eye, but his horse's head obligingly swung around. "It will be goodbye," he said, and his voice was cool and unnaturally even.</p>
<p>Doris nudged her horse backward, and her smile was steady. It held a subtle shade of sadness, but the shade did nothing more than gently colour the calm warmth. "I know," she said. "So let's make a proper go of it, this time."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 025. Party (twisted with mud and gold)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Just beyond the edge of the light, airy music, she could hear her footsteps echo in the vast and empty space.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because I felt like being creepy? Or something. I felt I should have written something with Doris in a dress, but what the hey. We'll go for morbid instead of sexy. Damn it, self.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights were low, the delicate beauty of the surroundings exquisite; gold curled its way up along the walls, a chandelier cast a thousand refracting pieces of light over the floor, and the rich silks and intoxicating scents all painted a picture of almost unimaginable luxury.</p><p>Doris watched her boots track mud on the ground. Where she stepped for a moment the projection faltered and failed, golden light flowing, shattering and reforming over the marks of her feet, impeccable once more.</p><p>Just beyond the edge of the light, airy music, she could hear her footsteps echo in the vast and empty space.</p><p>In the projection, the scene was flushed with light and beauty. In reality, she reached out and catch shreds of rotting cloth where heavy velvet curtains hung in the illusion. It was a long-decayed splendour that lingered.</p><p>His tread was soundless, but she turned anyway, instinctive. "It used to be beautiful," she remarked hesitantly, studying his implacable features.</p><p>His head inclined.</p><p>She left the obvious -- but not for a long, long time -- unstated. "Why is this on?" She asked, turning instead to inspect the high curve of the ceiling, the gowns that almost swept her feet as their hems whirled past. "Who left it on?" It must have been on for some time, for it was losing energy; the Nobles had mastered the art of holograms so real they could fool the sense of touch as well as sight, yet she could feel the cloth giving way beneath her hands.</p><p>"Someone who mourned," he said. "Long dead now."</p><p>The skin crawled along her spine. "And this has just been...going on and on without them."</p><p>"It is programmed to continue until it is turned off."</p><p>She surveyed the dancers. "Were these real people?"</p><p>D walked with slow deliberation into the swirl of shining figures. He cut a dark, angular figure amongst their sweeping skirts, elaborate hair and glittering eyes. The figures in the expertly constructed hologram parted around him, though they gave no sign of noticing him. His face was perfectly still, and for a second she gritted her teeth at the wave of chill that swept off of his skin, making the hologram ripple restlessly.</p><p>"Once," he said flatly. "A long time ago."</p><p>She craned her neck to try and see what he saw, but she only caught the faintest glimpse of a tall, shadowed form before the crowds obscured them again. "And now they're just drones, dancing into eternity." She studied their inhumanly graceful movements, their smiles. "Do you dance, D?"</p><p>Dead silence met the question. Her lips twitched as she fought a smile. It was hard not to become familiar with D's reticence; when he bothered to talk, which wasn't often, he usually didn't do it for long. And he didn't seem used to having questions aimed at him from people he was actually willing to answer.</p><p>Finally he said, "I know how."</p><p>She stirred her fingers through the decaying curtains again, watching the light move oddly, faltering in swathes. "I never learned dances like these -- never any call for them." She frowned and moved aside as the image of a female Noble swept past too close. Softly she said, "I like ours better. This doesn't feel -- alive."</p><p>Immediately she felt foolish. It was a hologram, and an old and malfunctioning one at that. Of course it wasn't alive.</p><p>"No," D said, and she looked up at him, surprised. He moved his foot slightly and suddenly -- abruptly enough to jolt her upright with a gasp -- the light and motion and music flooding the chamber vanished, died away, leaving them in a cavernous and long fallen to ruin room and the musty silence that filled it. "No," he repeated. "And it never was."</p><p>She suppressed a shiver. "Let's get out of here," she said. "I don't think this place has anything for us."</p><p>He turned slowly back to her, as if he'd half forgotten her presence after a moment he said, "nothing for the living." And Doris looked at him steadily and then walked toward the door.</p><p>She wanted to say something, to reach out or argue against the ancient darkness looming in his eyes, but she knew him too well. So she just pushed the heavy doors open, letting in watery light, and listened for his footsteps as he finally followed her back into the evening.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 053. Earth (better men have hit their knees)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>A sudden shadow loomed behind her and the man faltered, stopped, his voice dwindling to a squeak in his throat.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This basically consists of Doris being badass? I feel like I should expand my horizons in this fandom, but what can I say, I love what I love.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Doris -- " He held his hands up, beseeching. "You know I didn't mean no harm."</p><p>Dust blew playfully at her feet and clung to the heavy weight of her dark hair, which was piled up behind her head and flattened in sweat-damp strands to her neck. The sun beat cruelly down on them but she'd manuevered him into the position of squinting against the glare; it was difficult to discern her expression. He lowered his gaze instead to her feet, bare on the hard-packed dirt.</p><p>"You shot a man," she said, that low dark-velvet voice, throaty and promising.</p><p>He snorted. He couldn't help it, even though he saw the shift in her stance immediately and knew it was a bad move. "Ain't no man that I shot, Doris."</p><p>"Well, ain't no man that I'm about to shoot," she snapped. "Just a low down worm who ain't got nothin' better to do but prey on honest folk."</p><p>Doris was quick to temper and not prone to hesitate when she saw violence might be necessary. It was a feature he appreciated when useful and loathed when -- more often -- it proved to his disadvantage. "Listen, little lady, I didn't realize he was your friend -- I'll make amends, promise. Just put down that gun -- "</p><p>She finally stepped out of the glare of the sun, and her young face was set stonily. "The hell you will," she said. "You're about as trustworthy as a snake, Barrol, if that. And it's none of your damn business what he is to me."</p><p>He gave a bark of derisive laughter, goading. "Aw, come on -- don't tell me, the damn half-breed's got you too? Always thought you went for more than a pretty face, Doris. Bet your daddy'd be -- "</p><p>She shot him.</p><p>He collapsed in the dirt, writhing and howling as he clutched at his leg. "You bitch!" he screeched, and she came a little closer, still out of reach, dark eyes hard.</p><p>"You shut your mouth about my dad," she ordered. "And tell me where the children are."</p><p>"Bitch," he whined, tears standing out in his eyes. "God, you -- I'm gonna bleed to death!"</p><p>"The children," she repeated stonily.</p><p>"They're gone! They're gone, they took them, they're never coming back. You'll never catch up without that goddamn half-breed and he -- "</p><p>A sudden shadow loomed behind her and the man faltered, stopped, his voice dwindling to a squeak in his throat.</p><p>"Got that?" she asked without taking her eyes off of her prey.</p><p>"We'd better hurry," came the curt reply.</p><p>"Gotcha," she said, and raised the gun. "I'd love to deliver you to the families you've wronged, Barrol, and let them tear you apart, but I just don't have the time."</p><p>She turned and accepted the pale graceful hand extended to her, vaulting up into the saddle. Perched there agilely, she turned back, and just as he almost breathed a sigh of relief, the gun came up again.</p><p>"Goodbye," she said, and pulled the trigger.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 085. Read (a stroke of the oars and a long shoreline)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>She tried to decipher the elegantly archaic script. "So the Nobility can be sentimental, too." </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doris tucked the tiny red flower behind her ear, crossed her legs, and turned a page in the book. The tome was heavy in her lap, leather bound, with small neat script and thin, delicate pages. She was half-afraid to grip them too hard in case they tore.</p><p>The room she was in was warmly lit, with plush dark red carpet, smooth dark wooden paneling, bookshelves attached to the walls and soft armchairs to sit in. It was elegant, practically smelled of money, and there was a heavy and completely locked desk sitting a little ways away.</p><p>It was a Noble's ship that carried them silently through black water, untouched by weather or monsters. She wasn't sure where D was; it seemed to pilot itself, but maybe he knew more about that. She gripped the edges of the book tightly, shifting it on her lap, and ran a finger down a line of text.</p><p>"You can read them?"</p><p>"Only a little," she said, looking up at him. "It's an old language, but I've picked up one of the more recent variants..." she flapped a hand. "Around."</p><p>Expressionless, he came to stand by her chair. She paused her moving finger near one curling sigil. "Mother?" she asked, tipping her head up to gaze at him. She was gambling that he knew, and wondered if he'd be able to tell her.</p><p>He nodded, and then reached out himself, his finger brushing hers as he trailed along the line and stopped at another, and moved again. "Lost. Broken. Affection - familial."</p><p>Doris looked down at the page, feeling her heart squeeze down inside her chest. It wasn't a hard train of thought to pick up on. "Who lost who?"</p><p>"The mother was lost. The child is left behind."</p><p>Doris traced a long, gliding line, feeling her mouth curve down in a frown. "Is that what the book is about?"</p><p>"No. Only this story." She could feel the chill of his presence crawl down her spine, prickle at the small of her back. It was unconscious, she was pretty sure, but he consistently exuded a kind of low level eeriness, a chill that warned off bystanders, enemies and friends alike. Don't get too close.</p><p>She turned the pages, letting them ruffle between her fingers, soft against their tips. She stopped at a new page. "And this one?"</p><p>"Poetry," he said.</p><p>Doris laughed, startled and delighted. "Poetry. Whoa. About what?"</p><p>"Love," he said, a distant kind of amusement in his voice.</p><p>"So the Nobles could be sentimental, too." She tried to decipher the elegantly archaic script. "That's sky, I think, and maybe...pain?</p><p>His cool hand touched the base of her neck and he bent to her, breath touching her ear, low cool voice a dark whisper. His tone had shifted subtly, from cool monotonous indifference to something else.</p><p>
  <i>"She burns me,<br/>Her starlight,<br/>I open to her,<br/>Like the sky,<br/>Exquisite pain,<br/>A little death."</i>
</p><p>Doris swallowed. Hard. "So it's a human writer," she said, her voice a little breathless.</p><p>He straightened, his touch slipping away. "One among many," he answered. She twisted in her seat, laying her arm over the chair, to watch him cross the room. He stood before the bookshelf, having passed the desk without giving it any visible attention. "There are other books you might have an easier time with."</p><p>Doris gazed around the room, a little overwhelmed. "It's like a treasure trove of knowledge," she said quietly.</p><p>His hand trailed over the books.</p><p>"But there's no one to look after it, not really." She looked up at him. "Is there? None of the vampires I've met seem real concerned about it, or likely to tend libraries."</p><p>"No. There aren't any longer."</p><p>Doris looked down at the book, then gently closed it. After a moment, wry humour slipping into her tone to mask the sting of ineffable loss, she murmured, "at least it wasn't very good poetry."</p><p>He drew a book off of the shelf and returned to her. "Try this one."</p><p>She looked up at him, questioning, before accepting it and setting the first book in her lap. She gently opened the new one, and noted the woman's name printed neatly on the first page. "The author?"</p><p>"She was a writer," he said. "And a vampire's lover. A little too fanciful, but a skilled author."</p><p>She turned the page, ran her eyes down the text - archaic but wholly recognizable - and then closed it again, extending the first book to D. "You can read it," she said. "Read it to me?"</p><p>He paused before accepting it, then slowly took it.</p><p>"I can read this one any time," she said softly. "I'm afraid my options for that one are a little more limited."</p><p>"Alright," was all he said.</p><p>Doris smiled at him, half-surprised, half-gratified. "Thank you," she said, and as he settled into another chair, she listened to his voice, and the sound of the water, very faintly, outside. For a moment they were closed in this room, perfectly preserved throughout the ages that must have passed since a foot last rested within its boundaries.</p><p>She'd keep the books, she thought suddenly as he turned a page, evidently coming to something he found palatable. Somehow. She'd save them.</p><p>And then she closed her eyes and listened.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. to knock them down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>"You've been with another dhampir."</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic assumes that after having Dan manfully 'take over' duties on the farm, Doris booked it to hunt baddies across the Frontier and she and D crossed paths occasionally.</p><p>This was not part of the otp_100 challenge, simply a short oneshot for the pair.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You've been with another dhampir," he said, and when she spun at the sound of his cool voice so close, she found him looking down, face impassive, eyes ink-dark.</p><p>"I--yes. Yes, a job last week." Doris stepped back, a flush sweeping up her neck, boot heels quiet on the smooth wood floor. Searching for words to steady her while she met his eyes, she added, "we worked together briefly. Th--your nature doesn't bother me, and not everyone's as tough as you--" her smile gaining strength, her cheeks flushed like she was a teenager again. "--so it works out well. They get the highest paying jobs, pretty much. But how...?"</p><p>He said only, "I can smell him on you." And retreated.</p><p>Mouth hanging slightly open, Doris watched him. But it was true she'd been in no shape or situation for anything other than a sponge bath, so it was less astonishing than it could have been, especially with her experience around dhampirs' powers of perception.</p><p>But it was <i>D</i>. And he'd cared enough to ask. She rubbed her palms on her thighs and turned away, exasperated with herself for the thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Heartbeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Opaque black eyes shifted to meet hers. "You knew."</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Optional indulgent smutty follow up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517609">i ain't scared of lightning</a></p>
<p>Also not otp_100, put here for storage purposes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He opened his eyes just as she brushed dark hair out of his eyes, stark and silky against the white pillowcase.</p>
<p>There was no in-between moment, no daze or discernible confusion. His eyes turned to hers, face still, and Doris looked down at him in silence, their eyes meeting without words.</p>
<p>The day was dying, and around the white curtains golden sunlight slipped like honey, illuminating dust motes and a stripe of warmth across the quilt that covered him. The room was very quiet, and she sat beside him on a heavy wooden chair, one leg tucked beneath her. The only sound in the room was the quiet rhythm of their breath, and her hand had fallen away to rest on his shoulder.</p>
<p>"D," she said, and the word dropped into the stillness of the room, accompanying a small, almost shy smile. "I'm glad you're awake."</p>
<p>He lifted his left hand and studied it, expression impassive. There was no face visible in the smooth surface of the skin, but he rubbed his thumb over his palm anyway, then let his hand fall. "How long was I out?"</p>
<p>"A day and a half." She hesitated. "Is...are you all right? That's the first time I've ever seen you so banged up."</p>
<p>A sound that was almost a sigh shuddered out of him. "Fine."</p>
<p>Her chin dipped in acknowledgment. Doris had experienced her share of jobs she didn't ever want to talk about again, and she respected that in others. After a second she lifted her hand, rubbing her fingers together. "You sweat," she said, and half-smiled. "Somehow I'd never imagined that you could."</p>
<p>Opaque black eyes shifted to meet hers. "You knew."</p>
<p>Her breath caught softly, a flush staining her cheeks. Doris met his eyes and bit into her lower lip, then released it. "That's pretty different circumstances," she said softly.</p>
<p>His hand fell to the sheet again, restlessly curling and uncurling his fingers as though flexing a phantom pain from the joints. His deep stillness was worse than usual, more impenetrable than she'd grown accustomed to. Doris planted her hands on the bed and lightly swung her body up so that she sat against his body, the line of her thigh pressed against his ribs. When she first leaned forward he'd moved his arm without thought as though making room, reading her mind in the lines of her body.</p>
<p>"I'm glad you came here," she spoke quietly, the warm light sliding over her dark hair and the curve of her cheekbone. She was illuminated by it, almost haloed in it even though she'd taken care to divert the light from falling directly on him.</p>
<p>The way he looked at her never failed to make her smile. Even at his most impassive he met her eyes steadily, unflinching. If D was anything, he was straight-forward. "Is Dan here?"</p>
<p>"No," she said. "I sent him to the outpost for news. He won't be back 'til tomorrow night."</p>
<p>Something subtle changed in D's expression, or maybe finished changing, because although she couldn't have described exactly what shifted it was almost like looking at someone different gazing back at her, examining each shape of her face with meticulous detail. She wondered what he carried with him on his long journeys, the way she carried pieces of him and their time through each moment and small adventure of her day.</p>
<p>This time, she waited for him, something like a soft touch of mischief in the smile twitching at the corners of her lips.</p>
<p>His hand curved at the back of her neck and his fingers were almost warm against her skin, though they felt cool compared to the heat of the sunlight. His nails scraped delicately over her skin and he drew her down.</p>
<p>The kiss was soft, cool, and long. Doris closed her eyes, feeling her eyelashes brush her skin in light, exquisitely sensitized touches, and sank into the slow movements of his mouth, the languor of her own body and the richness of the light, beyond her eyelids and drawing up through her body in heavy streamers of luminous pleasure. She drew in the quiet warmth of the room on her next breath, pushing the chair away with her foot and hearing it scrape over worn floorboards.</p>
<p>In one swift motion, she'd straddled him. Her hair tumbled down around the, curtaining off their faces as it came loose from its sloppy, unsecured twist. It was as warm as her skin and she shrugged out of her shirt, rising onto her knees to pull it over her head.</p>
<p>His eyes were so dark.</p>
<p>D touched her belly, nails drawing lightly over the ridges of muscle, the dip of her belly button and the smooth curve of her hip, bared by the light pants that slipped low. He cupped her hips and she bent to him again, opening her mouth and turning the kiss hungry and wet.</p>
<p>Her skin was warm, and damp with light sweat. She'd been sitting in the sunlight, and earlier working in the orchards, and she smelled like it, her hair carrying the scent of hot sunshine and harvested fruit, her body still radiating the heat of the day, harmless to him now -- better than harmless. The kiss deepened and lasted, and one of her palms settled over the blue stone on his chest, the other working lazily, almost offhandedly at the straps and ties of his clothing.</p>
<p>His mouth warmed beneath hers. Her breath sighed out over his mouth and he could almost taste the sweet fresh air she'd breathed on it, the crisp flesh of the fruit she'd bitten into while waiting for his eyes to open. She tasted like a living, breathing piece of the sunshine outside, veiled in mortal flesh and heart. All of his years were no match for the quickening shudder of her breath, and the light pressure of her teeth on his lip.</p>
<p>His hand ran down her back in a long stroking caress, his calluses rasping against her skin, silky-soft. Her hand settled on his shoulder and she tucked her hair behind one ear with the other; she didn't know how long she went on kissing him, it could have been forever, but eventually she had bare skin beneath her fingers, the faint ridges and traceries of scars, and she slid her hand down the center of his chest and felt that hunger grow, the soft intake of breath expanding his ribs against her palm and stoking the quiet coals of her desire.</p>
<p>She rolled away, on her feet on the softness of the covers. Her back pressed against the window as she edged the pants down over her hips and she could feel the paradoxical coolness of the glass behind the curtain's barrier and the hot slice of sunshine over her cheek where the curtains parted. Fully naked, she knelt in the tousled blankets and reached for him.</p>
<p>D had sat up, slowly. He moved efficiently, his shirt and pants already stripped away; a second's almost hesitation as he probed the space over his ribs where the largest wound had been. Reminiscence rather than any kind of surprise or amazement at the new scar which should have been years old. Whatever thought he was having, it was a bitter one, and it snarled in Doris's throat.</p>
<p>She walked toward him on her knees across the bed, covering the scar with her smaller hand. His face turned to her, unearthly beauty fully restored to cold, visible indifference.</p>
<p>Words would be paltry. There were some experiences no one could share, and no amount of platitudes could remotely reassure. Instead, she laid him back on the bed and kissed him again, cupping his face as she slid a leg over his hips.</p>
<p>It was an open-mouthed kiss, and now a little hungrier, the slickness of her tongue sliding over his lip, into his cool mouth. Her sweat slid over his skin, her body heating up more by the moment, and she was slick and hot already.</p>
<p>Doris slid her mouth away, along his skin, breaking contact and pressing their cheeks together as her mouth rubbed a moist line along his jaw. His skin had heated against hers, and her fingers glided when she drew them down his side, nails curling lightly against his skin. She rocked her hips against him, taking her time with finding the right angle, until they were both slick, and his fingers bit into her hip, a flash of restrained hunger twisting his mouth and drawing harshly in his throat.</p>
<p>She sank down over him.</p>
<p>His fingers were twisted deeply in her hair, and they were kissing again. Doris pulled her mouth away, sitting up to sink fully down on him as she gasped, feeling the currents of air cool on her sweat-slicked skin, her nipples tightening. He drew the lengths of her hair around his hand and tugged, gently; she arched down, kissed him lightly -- drawing her teeth against his lip -- and then up again, bracing herself to move against him.</p>
<p>His hand settled against her thigh, biting in, and she hissed through her teeth, bared briefly in a snarl, her head thrown back. His fingers slid from her hair, stroking over her hip, and his hips rocked into hers, making her give a breathy, half-swallowed cry. She tipped her head down to smile at him, mouth flushed and tender, meeting that direct, bottomless stare as the hand on her hip slid between them and combed through dark curls to press his thumb to her clit.</p>
<p>She cried out, clenching around him rhythmically, feeling her skin slide against his where it was damp with sweat or wet with other fluids, and she bit into her lips again, then fell forward, catching herself with hands clenched around the bars of the headboard. The kiss was messy, wet and harshly urgent, her rhythm catching and then speeding, harder and quicker. She captured his face between her palms instead and kept on kissing him even as scarlet heat bloomed behind her eyelids and the shudder of orgasm overtook her, tipping over the edge as he thrust sharply upright.</p>
<p>Her voice was sharp and clear, a shuddering vocalization she only allowed herself now that they were alone, and his hands tightened minutely on her as he thrust once into her, tongue sliding against the inside of her lip, and parting. His hand drew up her back again, palm open against the wet skin, his exhale stirring over her skin.</p>
<p>Doris closed her eyes and felt him warm against her, radiating her own body heat back. His arms closed around her and she pressed her face to the side of his neck and whispered, "welcome home."</p>
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